Of Thorns and Roses
by Kelly Tolkien
Summary: Christine gets invited to a large dinner dance and runs into Erik but there is something completely and noticeably different about him. And it is easy to see. EC and a small amount of CR. Some Fop bashing but nothing too hairy... mostly ALW Movie
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately I do not own any of Phantom of the Opera it all belongs to Gaston Leroux, Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber and Joel Schumacher. Oh and Learn to Be Lonely, belongs to Mr Webber and Sony Classical and Minnie Driver who sang it. I am not making any money, just happy people I hope.

Love you ALL! And Erik too

**A/N: **Well here we all are again. Another PotO. We all lover them. Well this is set a couple of months after the Movie. This fic is mostly based on the movie with maybe the odd bit of Leroux because she knows him as Erik and not just "Phantom" or "Angel". And after all… Erik is just so much more pleasing to type…

**Of Thorns and Roses**

**Prologue**

Christine walked through the many vast hallways of her friends' home. The House was lavishly decorated and had many ornaments and mirrors covering the walls and worktops. There was nothing bland or boring and everything seemed to have a vibrant life about it, reflecting the personality of her hosts.

She had been invited to a large party, to celebrate the birthday of her host's husband, Monsieur Flarier. She had arrived early and was to stay over in their house for a few weeks, as she was a good friend with Monsieur Flarier's wife, Monica Flarier.

They had met one day when Christine's husband, Raoul invited Monsieur Flarier over or Robert as his first name was, over for dinner to discuss some boring matters unknown to Christine.

She wandered idly through the vast hallways, determined not to let one piece of information escape her gaze. It truly was a beautiful house.

Somehow even though the mansion was vast and almost cavernous, she was not cold, and she wondered how the servants managed to keep such a large environment warm.

She walked on losing herself in the huge halls and not really minding. No matter what corridor she turned into on whatever side of the house there was always someone there. A butler pacing the rooms or a maid idly mopping or dusting.

She knew that she had no reason to rush back to the main entrance hall or the large dining room where her beloved Raoul sat even now, discussing boring matters of state with Monsieur Flarier. If Monica had been there she probably would have been spending this free time with her, but unfortunately she was away on business at the moment on the far side of France.

So now, after being told to make herself at home by her humble host and wishing him a very happy birthday, she had gotten permission to explore until her heart was content, and she was.

Aimlessly wandering through hallways was exactly what Christine need at the moment. She was tried from all the travelling that it took to get here, and yet she had the need to stretch her legs after being in a carriage for most of the day. It also helped that she had some time on her own. She loved Raoul very much but even married couples needed space and time alone.

She was proud of herself that over the last few months she had been able to banish all thoughts of the vents at the Opera Populaire from her mind. During the odd time that she spoke of it, even if it just in passing, he went rigid and made short replies. One word if he could manage it, this signalled to her to stop talking and either leave the room or change the subject. She normally did the latter as running away from an angry husband would not be a good step for the marriage.

He would have to get over it sometime. They couldn't live their lives constantly never mentioning things about their past. What about when their children asked how they met. Which she was sure they would ask. They would have to mention the Opera Populaire sometimes. They needed to discuss it and relieve the tension that had been building up over the issue. Christine decided that it was critical to their marriage and also their relationship as friends, which held the basis of love together after all.

However she had made this decision also in passing since she did not allow her mind to dwell on it long incase she decided that she had made the wrong decision. She had come to that conclusion sub-consciously indicating, that there was a situation of a wrong decision in there somewhere…

Her mind began to wander as she walked through the house. Over recent matters, and long past matters. She thought about Raoul and how well their marriage was going. They hadn't seemed to stop rushing about since they had said their vows.

She had been married about four months to him now and she was finding that he had changed from what she had known when she was Little Lotte. He had also changed from the man that she knew at the Opera Populaire, but not in a bad way, just changed from what she knew.

After her mind had skipped over the words, 'Opera Populaire', her thought immediately turned to the huge landing that she had now reached.

There was a long flight of stairs that went down with a delicate step, permitting for a lady in a long dress, and the banisters that flowed down smoothly beside it were dark oak and went well with the dark blue tone of the carpet. She knew somehow that her friend, Monica, had decorated the house. At the bottom of the flight of steps was another tall doorway that was intricately carved and one of the most beautiful things that her eyes had ever had the grace of seeing.

From the bottom of the stairs, many rooms led off to the side and there was a pathway of carpet leading up to each of the double doors. Neither of her new friends were hard-done-by, that was for sure.

But what was the most amazing thing in the whole new hall that she had discovered, deep in the bellies of the house, was the huge glittering chandelier that was raised high above the ground from an almost invisible chain from the roof. It looked so like reminiscent of the chandelier at the Opera Populaire that it stirred her memory and brought events that she didn't want to return back into her mind.

She felt her legs begin to shake at the thought of a chandelier and saw black spots appearing at the corners of her eyes. She grabbed the table that stood beside her for support and so that she could catch her breath.

When she caught the eye of a butler, her run over and gently rested his gloved hand on her arm. He leaned close to her but not too close that he invaded her personal space.

"Are you all right, Vicomtess?" asked the Butler, certain urgency in his voice.

"Yes monsieur, thank you for your concern. Just a bit of a light head, merci," she said waving his concern away with a flick of her hand. She straightened up and placed her hand on his outstretched arm just to steady herself.

"Would you like to return to your room, Madame?" he asked in a gentle tone. Christine could almost tell the character of this man immediately by the sound of his voice and his obvious kind nature.

"Oui, monsieur. I think that would be appropriate, merci," she said in her heavy French accent, making her sound like she had been in France all her life and born there instead of Sweden. She could not remember most of her home-tongue apart from the odd simple phrase, which she greatly regretted.

"Si vous plait, monsieur, comment t'appelle tu?" she asked being carefully escorted by the Butler back to her room. She assumed that all the staff of the household had been informed of her arrival and her room.

"Oui!" He said with a soft chuckle that made her feel like her Dad was alive again, "Je'mappelle Monsieur Liddel. Anglais," he said with quite a bit of an English accent she noticed now that he mentioned it.

"Monsieur! Would you be so kind to teach me some Basic English? I feel that since it is such a common language that I should make and effort to try to learn some of the basics" she said, slightly slower than she would have normally, taking into account that French wasn't his first language.

"Oui, Madame," he said with that soft chuckle again. She knew that she shouldn't be so familiar with a servant but she couldn't help feeling like she had met this man before.

He led her confidently through many turns and hallways as they chatted idly like old friends reunited at last. She saw that he had grey hair that was tidily swept back into a pony tail, and he wore the customary clothes for a Butler in a grand house like this. He had a kind face with soft features that offered a Welcoming smile. He seemed to know his way around the House extremely well so she expected that he had been serving here for a long time.

Before she knew it she found that she was back outside the brown oak door of her room. She turned with a kind smile on her face to the Butler who had been so kind and polite to her.

"Thank you, monsieur. I am sure that you have better things to do with your time than escort a dizzy lady back to her room again. I appreciate you kindness," she said with her hand resting on the brass doorknob that would release her into her sanctuary for the next week or two.

"Please Vicomtess, do not thank me it was my pleasure. Do you know where you are and how to make your way down to the dining hall?" he asked making a gesture in the direction of the entrance hall down the corridor in relation to her room.

"Yes, monsieur, I thank you again for your kindness," he bowed and walked on down the corridor returning to whatever duty that he had been performing before.

She smiled at his back and then turned the brass handle to her and Raoul's room.

It was as lushly decorated as the rest of the house, but tastefully so. There was a large four-poster bed with a blue curtain tied back with white ties from the bed. The bed linen matched the curtains, and the ones covering the window where the same. There was a bathroom in a door off to the left with facilities for a warm bath, which at the moment seemed like heaven to her after a day of travelling.

She walked over to the bed and flopped down on it in a very unladylike way. She closed her eyes and pretended that she was one of the ballet rats again. She thought of this often and most of the time managed to keep the rest of the affairs that she tied to the Opera Populaire out of her head. She wondered how long Raoul would be and how much time she had before the party. Most of these affairs were boring and it briefly flitted across her mind about what she was planning to do this time to amuse herself.

Nothing immediately came to her, as she knew that reading a book would be entirely out of the question and she didn't want to appear rude. Raoul had done a lot for her over the past months and she did not want to let him down and seem spoilt in front of his friends and colleagues.

She wondered if the orchestra would be in any way good because she knew that it would be an affair of dinner with a dance afterwards. These gatherings of the politicians and important men of France and their spouses normally lasted a painfully long time. At least she would have the music to occupy herself.

Even after all these years she still loved music and she still sang. Sometimes when she was feeling lonely or those blissful moments where she had nothing to do, she would go up to the back room of the house with the piano in it.

For some reason she always found herself sitting down and singing the same song. It was a simple melody to play on the piano, which meant she didn't need anyone, and she could sing it easily without needing to make any great effort. As much as she hated to admit it, she loved it and it had been one of the songs that Erik had taught her at the very beginning of their lessons together. Now that she thought back at all that had happened it had been very apt for both of them at the time. She longed to find a piano now and melt into the music.

Raoul still allowed her to sing of course. That was something that he knew he could never get out of her, but he still did not allow her to do anything that reminded them of their times with Erik. Things like Music of the Night, which she knew that she could do if she really made an effort to remember.

Every so often at a dinner party, people would graciously ask if she would sing for them. It was useless trying to hide Christine's past from the world. Everyone recognised her or had heard of the name Christine taking over in the Opera House, and they all knew she was the right age and people like that tended to pry.

She would sing many songs. Songs that she had learned recently or songs that her father had taught her before he died. But never in public did she sing this one. Gently she sang the melodies to herself as she lay on the bed in that room.

_**Child of the Wilderness,**_

_**Born into emptiness,**_

_**Learn to be Lonely,**_

_**Learn to find your way in darkness.**_

_**Who will be there for you,**_

_**Come through and care for you,**_

_**Learn to be Lonely,**_

_**Learn to be your one companion.**_

_**Ever dreamed out in the World,**_

_**There are arms to hold you,**_

_**You've always known,**_

_**You're heart was on it's own.**_

_**So laugh in your loneliness,**_

_**Child of the Wilderness,**_

_**Learn to be Lonely,**_

_**Learn how to love, Life that is lived alone**_

_**Life can be lived,**_

_**Life can be loved, alone.**_

Even singing this quietly to herself brought back the decidedly saddening thought that she was badly in need of a tutor. Although to the untrained ear of Raoul and his guests at parties she sang like an Angel, Erik's sharp voice came into her head, that she was slightly off beat or of key. She could hear the strained almost inaudible vibration of her voice as she sang now that she had never had for years during Erik's training. She also noticed that after she held notes for a while she could hear a waver indicating she wasn't putting enough power into, or she wasn't singing the cord right. It infuriated her that she had had so much effect on her and that she had betrayed him.

No. She wasn't going to think like that. Unfaithful thoughts like that led to nothing but disaster and heartbreak for all.

She had already hurt one man she loved was she going to hurt Raoul as well…

Wait… Did she really just think that? Did she say loved?

**A/N: **So what did you think. This is only the Prologue so don't slay me for it being so short. I'm sorry. And the story might be developing too quickly sorry about that. If there is anything that you think I should change just tell me and I will appreciate your comment. Come on…

The review button is calling you… You know you want to push it… You know you want to… go on please? My Erik Muse will give you a big hug!

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Monsieurs, Meetings, and Mares

**A/N: **AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Erik Muse hugs for all! Four reviews so far for one chapter! I love you all! And now individual responses.

**Lotte Rose 37: **Thank you so much for your extra long review. I really appreciate you taking the time to type all that out. I read your story and it's now on my favourites list! It was really good and I dropped you a review. Can't wait to read more of that one! And I have a writing style? A moody writing style! Thank you! And I read your profile as well. Funny I love Moulin Rouge, Chicago, Phantom (of course) and all those. We worship you Andrew Lloyd Webber!

**Raydias: **Glad that I am holding you in suspense! Don't worry, I do apologise to everyone for the lack of Erik in the last chapter, I will make up for it this time. And their meeting should happen in this chapter if things have gone according to plan…

**Mouse in the Opera House:** Oh! The possibilities, eh? I don't know I will have to think that one through carefully. That being one I haven't planned yet, I hope for it to come to me one night in a dream… Thanks!

Diane Kuhs: Great! I'm so happy another person's attention! And once again I apologise for the distinct 'lack of Erik' pats sniffling Erik Muse on the shoulder sadly And thank you for reviewing! Faeriefeline125: Thanks for your review and yes here you go! Sorry, here's the French for the first chapter: 

" Si vous plait, monsieur, comment t'appelle tu?"

'Please, Monsieur, what is your name?'

' Je' mappelle Monsieur Liddel. Anglias.'

My name is Monsieur Liddel. English

**A/N:** Thank you all for reviewing. When I saw that wondrous message in my inbox; 'You have four messages in your inbox' I thought I would grow wings! Anyway… Now this story is a bit of a contemporary idea. Complete different and I just hope that you all like it…Now! Enough rambling! On with the show…

Christine lay on the bed deep in thought for what seemed only like a few minutes, but in reality it was half an hour. She heard a click that indicated that someone was coming through the door. She jumped up quickly off the bed, knowing that she was not lying in the most ladylike manner.

She straightened her dress quickly in the few seconds that it took for the door to fully open and the person to be allowed a view into the room.

When she saw that it was Raoul she relaxed noticeably and sat down on the edge of the bed again. He smiled and closed the door.

"Well, what do you think of the house Christine? It's lovely isn't it?" he said, striding over to the four poster bed in the middle of the room and pecking her lightly on the cheek.

"Um, yes it is. It's certainly huge… It reminds me of-" she stopped suddenly and bowed her head, not wishing to finish her sentence, knowing the tension that it would bring to the air.

Raoul chose not to take any notice of it, and continued his path over to the window.

Their room had a view over the gardens and the long sweeping drive of the house. Far in the distance you could see the large black, iron gates that swung open to permit visiting persons. From there the long gravel driveway swept up to the front of the house, where it split in two and spread across the front to allow for carriage turning and parking.

The house outside was just as grand an affair as the inside. Decorated in old grey stone it had gothic like peaks on the roof and fancy designs outlining the windows. The doors were the same as inside, large oak doors except, of course, much stronger. It had steps up to these double doors and large carvings of many different things that could only be identified by close inspection.

Christine and Raoul were still looking for a house to purchase for themselves. Raoul had always lived with his family until now, because the house was big enough that you could avoid them all day if you tried hard enough.

The gardens were beautiful things as Christine had noticed on their journey up the driveway and into the great house that they were now staying in.

As she gazed out of the window of the carriage she saw that there were many tall trees with beautiful foreign flowers that she could not identify. The lawns were cut short and perfectly maintained and these gardens stretched all the way to the house beside the driveway and around to the back, where there was a huge rose garden and an even bigger maze. An indulgence of Monica, she knew…

All through the gardens were winding stone pathways that led you deeper and deeper into the floral world. She intended to take a walk out there later on.

The house also had stables built on. There was a lane that ran from the left side of the house (as you looked at it coming up the driveway), that led you down to the vast stable yard. With a menage, stables, paddocks and vast open fields that you could gallop around to escape the social and political schedule of the rich…

And of course, there was also a short race track like any respectable people had at their houses these days to maintain the fitness of their newly bred thoroughbreds. Another thing that Christine would have to make a point of doing some time over her stay with the Flariers.

After Raoul had scanned the gardens and outside paraphernalia, he turned back to Christine again.

"Lovely view," he said, changing the subject of Christine's earlier stumble.

"Indeed. So, did you have fun with Robert, dear?" she asked not really caring but it was only manners.

"Oh yes indeed! We had a fascinating discussion involving the political and economic barriers of-" Christine shut his voice out. It was the only thing that she could do. He would regularly go off on a rant expressing his views on a subject that she knew nothing about. She knew that she was blessed that he was satisfied with the occasional 'yes' or 'really?' or nod of the head from her. He tended to easily carry conversations on his own. An aristocratic hereditary value apparently.

"Oh, and he told me that Monica would be arriving home shortly," he said, almost as an afterthought. At the mention of her counterpart Christine's ears immediately pricked up and she began to listen to her husband again. He hadn't even noticed her dazed look as she thought; "_If I was a crayon, what colour would I be?" _during his speech.

"Really? Where was she? And how long, what time will she be here at?" Christine asked attempting to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"You are excited to her of her again?" and failed miserably apparently…

"Yes. Of course… She is my friend after all… And I have missed her over the past months. She really has been the only close friend that I have made."

"Well she is to be here at four hours past noon my dear…" Raoul smiled and walked out the door, and before closing it shouted through the small crack; "Get ready for the **party" **the last word being muffled through the oak of the door.

Christine smiled. She tended to see him more when she was not married to him than after she was. How strange the aristocratic world is?

She looked at the large grandfather clock that ticked consistently in the far corner of the room. She looked at the time and saw that it was one o'clock.

The party was at six, so she had plenty of time to bathe and pick a dress and relax. She planned to go horse riding though first, but the lure of a bath was too much to resist and she put it off until tomorrow… After all, she did have all week.

She knew that a maid would be up soon to help her with preparations so she walked over to her wardrobe and opened the large doors. She saw that there was a vast amount of space inside. More than enough room to house the few dresses that she had brought with her.

She walked over to the small case that was hers and had been brought up by the servants of the house. She had requested, of course, that the bags be left and that they would unpack them themselves. So she shuffled through the many layers of fabric and sighed. She hadn't thought that she had brought that much but she was wrong she had at least twelve dresses with her. She was just lucky that they had such a huge wardrobe.

She lifted the first dress of the top of the pile. It was a soft colour of blue that hugged her curves tightly but not too tightly as to be indecent. It was an off the shoulder dress and one of her favourites as it also matched her hair well.

She picked it out of the case and carefully hung it in the wardrobe on one of the hangers that were already supplied. She walked back over to the case and picked out the next dress that lay inside. This was an evening dress unlike the other, which was for simple daywear. It was a very tone of red with a sort of black netting over it. Sometimes the way the light hit it, it looked black and this was Raoul's favourite on her. This one covered her shoulders but was quite low cut. She walked over to the wardrobe and put this on a hanger beside the other dress.

She repeated this process until the case was empty of dresses and shoes that matched and then sat back down on the bed. Her personal belongings could be unpacked later as she used them in the bathroom.

Just at the moment that she thought that, there was a soft but not timid knock on the door.

"Come in," Christine projected so that it would penetrate the wood door.

A slightly hunched woman in maids uniform bustled in and curtsied not so gracefully, quickly followed by a much younger girl. The younger girl she could tell was of great beauty though it was hidden in the shapeless maids' uniform of the house. She also curtsied and kept her eyes on the floor and never meeting anyone's gaze except when she heard the stern old woman's voice directed at her.

"I take it that you'll be wanting a bath ma'am?" she said. The woman spoke French very well, even if there was an English accent in there Christine could easily understand what the woman was saying. The old woman's voice was kind at the moment.

"Well, what are you standing here for? Go prepare the bath, little miss," the woman said sternly to the young girl. She hurried off quickly to follow the instructions given.

"Thinks it's a bloody half time job standin' aroun' 'ere, does she?" the old woman muttered into her chest.

"Hello ma'am. My name is Madame Brown. Very traditional English name and that young girl there's called Kristen ma'am. Kirsten Rodgers. Very young, new here," Madame. Brown said introducing the duo who had entered her room.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Madame," Christine said with great enthusiasm. She wanted to make a good first impression…

After Christine had had her bath she picked out her favourite red dress that she had put in her wardrobe before and put it on. Kirsten had helped her put her hair up in a tight bun with very limited conversation, as she could not speak French. Why she was in France was a complete mystery to Christine.

Sometime in the middle of her preparation for the party Raoul charged in and then back out again with a quick flick of the brush over his hair and changing his shirt and cravat. Men were so lucky that they had so little to do to go from evening clothes to day wear. She spoke very little as he went off on another rant about his excuse for spending so little time with her that day. She let him go the whole way through it all, only listening at the start so that she knew what he was talking about and could answer with some vague reference to his topic…

She stood in front of the full-length mirror beside the window and her dressing table and regarded her self with a close and critical eye. She looked fine and didn't seem to be missing or forgetting anything. She looked over at the grandfather clock, and saw that it was only five o'clock.

Monica would be back now. She would have gone down to see her earlier but 1.) She was in her bath and 2.) She wanted to give her some time with her husband and to get in and get settled first.

She looked out the window and saw that it was already getting dark, it being near the end of the autumn. Autumn was one of her favourite seasons. She loved the way that everything looked different from what it does all the years around. All the golds and browns and reds, the beautiful crunching of the leaves as they compacted under your feet. The best in her mind.

Christine wasn't exactly sure what she had done to make the time pass more quickly, but somehow she had managed to fill an hour by reading a book and doing nothing. It was a mystery how she managed it but things like this were happening more and more regularly at the moment. Maybe she was getting used to boredom, how very droll.

She glanced around the room at all the guests. She recognised very few faces. Then occasional one looked familiar but she still had not grasped the subtle art of remembering faces and putting names to them after one meeting, like most of the people at this party had, including Raoul.

The music wasn't that bad. She thought idly as she swirled her red wine around in her glass. She sighed gently and subtly but there was no need to hide it, as there was no one around to notice her expression of boredom. Raoul had led her around the huge ballroom and introduced her to everyone she didn't already know and started a conversation with everyone she did know. She didn't fit in this world of his and found it incredibly boring. She would much rather being singing right now, she thought.

No one was dancing yet, that would later along with the excess amount of wine. Raoul was away talking to another huddle of aristocrats; she had excused herself with the excuse of needing another drink and had not returned to the party. From where she was standing it didn't look like they were missing her too much…

She had stood like this for quite a while until she caught a glimpse of her friend Monica. She hurriedly put down her glass on the nearest table, and as elegantly as she could, trotted over to where she was standing.

When Christine was halfway across the ballroom, and halfway towards Monica, the blonde turned, catching a glimpse of her out of the side of her eye. Her blue eyes grew wide and she turned and began rapidly walking towards Christine as well.

When eventually the two met they embraced tightly with laughs of delight.

"Oh Christine! It is wondrous to see you again!" Monica hugged her once more and Christine replied the same.

"Did you have a good time?" Christine asked out of politeness rather than curiosity. Monica rapidly nodded her head but quickly waved her hand in dismissal of the event.

"There's someone here that I would like you to meet," Monica said, stopping and turning to her friend and excitedly grabbing her hands.

"He's and architect. He's designing our holiday house for us. We have seen some early designs and we already love it. Very talented man. He was slightly reluctant to come here but we said that he simply must for Roberts birthday!" Monica said quickly without a breath…

"Really…" Christine attempted to sound interested but she had been introduced to many men after her entrance into the aristocratic world, and all aristocrats were the same.

Monica led Christine through the groups of guests that lined the dance floor with ease, nodding her head in acknowledgement to their smiles and glances.

Eventually, she brought Christine to a small group of men that stood at the very edge of the hubbub. One of the men that was in the group she recognised as Robert, Monica's husband, who, she remembered was a very likeable man and had several conversations with him on their rare meetings…

Monica led Christine over to the group and pushed the pair in with great ease. Christine realised that all the men that were in the circle she had met before and was confused. Then she saw Monica whisper in her husband's ear. He pointed over to another small group just a few metres away.

Monica nodded to her husband and with a quick peck on the cheek, that being all that was appropriate in company. Left him to his conversation. Monica then began steering towards the smaller group of men that Robert had pointed out.

There were really only two men now, as on the two women's way over the group had slowly dissolved.

"Christine… I'd like to introduce you to Monsieur Erik Diorr. Monsieur Diorr, Vicomtess Christine De Change…" **(A/N: **Apparently Diorr is the name of my French relatives who changed it to Orr when they came over here…)

As Christine looked up into the man's face, coldness came over her that banished away the warm feeling that came with the house. It was her Phantom… The funny thing was that the first thing that came into her head was; _At least I can call him something more than Angel of Music now…_

She saw Erik freeze as his eyes fell on her. Those dark green orbs with such a strong penetrating gaze he could stare a fish out.

It was only then that she noticed it… No mask… And even more unexpected… No deformity…

Her eyes ran over the right side of his face where the marred and ugly flesh had once been, and there was nothing but clear handsome skin. He looked like he had always been that way, and now that she saw him without the mask and the deformity she saw just how handsome he really was.

The smooth curve of facial features and flowing lips that she remembered well. He had grown his hair slightly. He had long dark wavy locks down to his shoulders that shaped his face perfectly. If she had seen him like this first she would have believed he was an Angel… And right now she almost believed he was…

"Have you two… met?" asked Monica after the long period of silence where both just stared at each other. Before Christine could say yes, Erik had shook his head and taken her hand in his.

"A pleasure… Vicomtess."

Christine went weak at the knees at the sound of his voice. She hadn't heard it in so long now it was like pure music to her ears. She couldn't really process that fact that he wasn't wearing a mask… She was just staring at the right side of his now perfect face…

The rest of the evening went in a blur of pretty dresses and bright colours and far, far too much wine. She vaguely remembered dancing with a few random people and once with Raoul when he stopped for a pause in between gossip circles.

Christine woke up slowly. Her eyes felt like lead and she felt groggy. Whatever strange dream she was having was still going on in the half of her brain that was still asleep, mixing the real world and the dream world strangely together.

Last night was a mystery. She couldn't even remember coming up to bed. She looked over to her left and sure enough, there lay Raoul, slumbering peacefully. She hadn't even heard him snoring last night. She must have been in a really deep sleep.

As soon as her eyes opened and she had surveyed the outside world, one person sprung to the forefront of her mind. Erik of course. And from that very moment she knew that for a long time that's all that she would think about. And when her mind wasn't completely focused on him, he would always be there in the back of her mind. She would need some serious therapy after this holiday.

All she could hope was that he was only there for the party and not staying here. Raoul was going home today, that was the arrangement. He had wanted to give Monica and Christine some girl time together. Raoul and Christine had hardly been parted since their marriage, and they both needed some time alone.

She hoped that he would be gone silently and rolled over so that she was facing the window. She wondered what time it was and then it popped into her mind that… maybe she didn't want him to go…

What? No, she couldn't think like that, she was a married woman and she had made her choice already and she was planning to stick with it.

For now… But you have always been fickle Christine Daae… thought that little voice at the back of her mind. She was surprised when it used her maiden name. A true mystery. 

Maybe you could only find what you truly wanted in the depths of your sub- conscious…

She got out of bed decidedly but quietly attempting not to wake her husband. She decided that she was going to go horseriding today and she intended to. In fact, she was planning to go and then go deep into the forest on the very far side of racetrack on the far side of the grounds and not ride side-saddle. It was hardly the sort of thing that she could do out in the open, unless she knew that there would be no one there who would care. She was a lady now of high social status and not riding side saddle was like not wearing a corset, which she also did on occasion around the house…

After she had dressed quietly in simple clothes so that she did not need the helping hand of Kirsten, she sneaked out of the room and out of the front door of the house.

She down the lane and the gravel crunched under her riding boots. She wore a simple white blouse with the two top buttons undone and the simplest black skirt that she could find. She had tied her long curls back in a simple ponytail and with a small navy bow to make it look slightly more regal… (**A/N: **I'm going along the lines of what she wore just before the Point of No Return in the place where she normally preys for her father, and she sings: "Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Do I become his prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a thought; he murders all that's good. I know I can't refuse and yet I wish I could. Oh God if I agree what horrors wait for me in this, the Phantom's Opera?")

It was a beautiful day and the birds were high in the sky singing to their friends and partners…

(**A/N: **I FEEL A SONG COMING ON!)

Christine felt the music well up inside her and she knew that there was no one about.

"_Oh what a beautiful morning!_

_Oh what a beautiful day!_

_I've got a wonderful feeling, _

_Everything's going my way!_

"_All the sounds of the Earth are like music,_

_All the sounds of the Earth are like music,_

_The breeze is so busy it don't miss a tree,_

_And old weeping' willow is laughing at me!_

"_Oh what a beautiful morning!_

_Oh what a beautiful day!_

_I've got a wonderful feeling,_

_Everything's going my way,_

_Oh, what a beautiful day!"_

She wasn't quite sure where that even came from but it sounded good to her! She walked on down the gravel path. Singing had always made her feel good, no matter what she sang even if it was complete corn it made her feel happy.

She made her way down to the stables and saw that she would be spending most of her time here. They were all made out of stone with wooden doors, which went perfectly with the tan colour of the stone.

As you walked in to the yard there were four sides of stables making a box with a small gap that led you to another section, in the block of stables facing her.

The majority of the stables had head poking out over the tops if the doors, chewing on hay contentedly. She let her eyes scan over all the horses in sight and then walked straight on down the gap in the block in front of her. She was led into a huge stable yard now with pathways off to the right and left of her and once again, straight in front of her was the gateway out into the race track, the paddock and the forest and surrounding fields, all linked together by a dirt track.

As she looked around this part of the yard, a rather tall burly man with a crop of blonde curly hair and soft features came striding over to her.

"How can I help you, Mademoiselle?" he asked. She noticed that he did not bow and that he called her Mademoiselle, and she felt refreshed of the aristocratic swagger that she had been encompassed in lately.

"Well, I was wondering if I could go for a ride. Do you have any reasonably quiet horses? I haven't ridden in years and I need to get the feel for it back," she said to the man.

"Yes that's quite alright mademoiselle. I'm just a stable boy though, you need to go and see the man that is riding out in the paddock. He's the one in charge here." Christine nodded and thanked the boy for his help.

She walked over to the paddocks taking in all the faces of the beautiful horses as she went by.

She arrived at the paddock fence and saw a reasonably tall man trotting around the circumference of the paddock on a gorgeous, black stallion. When he got to the corner, or what would have been the corner had it not been a circle, he turned to do a diagonal line across the paddock. There was a rather large fence in the middle of the paddock, which the horse trotted towards and then took two long strides and leapt over the jump landing gracefully on the other side. The rider rode like he had been doing it all his life, and he probably had she realised…

"Excuse me, monsieur!" she shouted. The man looked up from the horses neck which he patted after the jump and Christine's heart sank.

Erik stopped the stallion with a gentle tug on the reins and with a sigh, turned the horse at a slow walk towards her.

"Yes, Vicomtess?" he said looking her in the eyes with that stare again. Once again that cold feeling came over her despite the warm breeze that blew the trees. The fact that he was very handsome now was doing nothing for her hatred of him. Nor for her marriage, she knew. She wondered how it had happened, what he had done,. Before she thought that it might have been a dream that he was even there maybe. But now, she knew that it wasn't, and she was scared.

"Monsieur, I was… I was… well, I was wondering if I could go for a ride. I was looking for a horse and the stable boy told me to come to you," she said, her voice growing stronger as she progressed through the sentence, she was not a young girl anymore, Erik observed.

"Yes, indeed. Do you have any preferences?" he asked, raising one eyebrow as he said it.

"Do I what?" she asked, not having the slightest idea what it was he was talking about.

"Are you specifically looking for, say a mare, a stallion, a gelding, a thoroughbred, a quiet horse, a dressage horse, show jumping, cross-country, side-saddle, games, polo, or endurance?"

Christine looked at him blankly. She didn't know he knew this much about horses.

"A quiet horse that I can go for a simple ride on that wont take off, and that I don't have to ride side saddle with?" she almost asked him.

He nodded once, and leaned forward and unbolted the gate with graceful ease. Christine knew that if she tried the she hit the ground in a heartbeat. Even her ballet couldn't help her now…

He walked serenely out of the gate and past Christine, she hated the way that he seemed so calm. When got into the yard he whistled, and the stable boy that she had met earlier came running out of one the stables.

"Hansel, get Amarantine tacked up, would you please, for the Lady," he said. Hansel nodded and ran away, round a corner, obviously to get Amarantine.

"She's an old mare. You can do whatever you want and you won't have any problems."

He turned the horse and walked off back into the paddock again. In record time, Hansel returned, leading an old looking bay mare with the reins, behind him

Christine took the horse and thanked him. As he went to walk away she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Monsieur Diorr, where did he come from and why is he working here if he is an architect?" she asked him quietly.

"Well, what happened was, the first time that Monsieur Diorr came here, he came down to the stables, and at that point we were having a bit of trouble with a renegade horse. Go's by the name of Don Juan. No one could ride him never mind go near him. So Monsieur Diorr comes into the yard and see's all us stable boys flying off in one direction or another by the horses hoof.

"So he comes and grabs the lead rein of one of us, and continues to talk to the horse in some strange language that I've never heard of before. And since then, he's been the only one who has ever been able to ride him, neigh, go near him…

"And there he is," Hansel pointed at Erik riding in the paddock.

"He figured that, if he worked here while he was design the holiday home, instead of travelling back and forward, he could get extra money and get paid for the designin' as well… And there he is," Hansel finished.

Christine nodded and after getting Hansel to bring her over the steps to help her mount, she thanked him and let him get back to his mucking out.

As she got herself settled on the horse's back, she squirmed inside at the thought of having to ride by Erik. Should she say something or nothing at all? But it was the only way to get to the fields so it was one of those things that had to be done, just like homework (euuuccckkk).

She rode by with her head down and made a great show of fixing her stirrups and pulling at the numna. (**A/N: **The thing under the saddle for those who don't know).

But she had to look up when she noticed that now Erik was riding the unrideable horse without a saddle. Bear-back. And he kicked the horse on into a canter and then popped over the jump in the middle again like it was walking around the park. How she hated and admired him at the same time. At least she thought that she hated him… Did she?

**I think that I should stop writing right here, because I gave you an extra long chapter this time. Hopefully, they will all be this long or longer. So what did you think sorry it took so long to get up. Hope you enjoyed it though and that it was worth the wait. Some Erik in there for you, and there will be lots more to come. I know the no deformity is a big step and it's completely impossible and I have no idea how it happened I just thought it would be interesting to see Christine's reaction…**

Well hope you liked! Please review! 


	3. Falling

**Alex eddy: **Thank you for your extra long review, really appreciate that! Also, yes. I unfortunately DO take French… But not for LONG! FOURTH YEAR AND SPANISH HERE I COME! Hope you start writing soon and thanks for reviewing!

**The Mouse in the Opera House: **Thank you once again for reviewing. And don't worry about asking questions I don't mind. It is my lot in life to torture people like you who ask questions, and tell them that they will have to wait because the story will reveal all! Laughs evilly

**GEORGIA LADY: **Thanks for your review. If you have ever seen Gerry in Dracula 2000 you should imagine him like that. Droooollll

**Marie Phantom: **All will be revealed! Twinkles fingers

**Kajsa: **Why thank you!

**Diane Kuhs: **Thanks all will be revealed! And don't worry I have evil mind too!

**Faeriefeline125: **Ta Ta! And I will!

And thank you to anybody else who reviewed and I have missed because of my disorganised personality… Extra Erik hugs for all!

Thank you everyone for reviewing I really appreciate it and never hesitate to do so…

_Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera (or Erik) sniffle but Monica, Robert, Hansel and Monsieur Liddel are all from my own toiled mind_

Falling 

As Christine disappeared into the distance, Erik pulled the stallion to a stop and looked almost longingly after her. Seeing her again was like a knife in his stomach being twisted with every heart beat. He didn't want her to be here. After all the time that he had spent putting his life back together without her, the last thing that he needed was for her to return and enter back into his life again.

He sighed and shook his head, and leant forward to pat Don Juan on the neck. The horse neighed back in recognition and Erik inwardly chuckled at the irony of the horse's name. No matter where he went he couldn't escape his old life.

Really, deep down, he had known that from the beginning. He knew that no one could really escape their past even though their past has already happened. The world isn't that big and things will always come back to haunt you. As much as he wanted to leave his old life behind, his past had caught up with him, and it was rather sooner than he had expected. Even though if it had come 30 years down the line he still would have thought that it would be too soon. Better to get it over and done with now, he thought.

The horse pulled on the reins, bringing him back into the present again. He looked around and wondered how long he had been sitting there for. It didn't really matter. He was dreading the time when Christine returned. He was wondering how long it would take for her to ask about his face. Not long he was sure. The way that Christine had stared at his face last night was enough to tell that her curiosity was already well on in its progress. He didn't want to spend any time with her, he still deeply loved her and it killed him, because he didn't want to, but no one can decide whom he or she falls in love with… Not even the Phantom… No, Erik shook his head. He wasn't the Phantom any more, was just Erik. Designing and composing Erik.

At that thought, his mood immediately perked up, as the fact that he was designing the rebuilt version of the Opera Populaire, which was being rebuilt even grander than it had stood before. He had missed the Opera, and even though he would not go as far as to live in it this time, he was still intending to spend as much time there as physically possible. Another thought which gave him great joy was the fact that the man who had bought the ruins of the Opera House, and the Man who had decided that it should be rebuilt, had heard some of his music before. Monsieur Marx had requested that he composed an Opera or at least a piece for the opening gala of the Opera Populaire, when the time came. Erik had accepted with great joy, although also, with slight trepidation. He was not sure of how things would work out, and things were getting to good for his life, too good to be true, as they say.

For the last while since he accepted Monsieur Marx's invitation he had been anxiously awaiting the day that his new world and happy life, that was far too good for him in his mind, would come crashing down around him… It had just come.

Somehow he knew that he would unfortunately come across Christine again. And the confusion inside him regularly boiled over and it would seriously annoy him that he didn't know whether he wanted her back or not, and Erik, HATED being indecisive. He had always berated Christine for her indecisiveness when picking a song for some reason or other. And there it was again! Those infuriating connections to Christine! Always there- _Just like Christine. _He greatly wished that she would get out of his mind.

He was once again broken from his reverie by a shout from the Hansel. He looked up quickly slightly dazed.

"Monsieur, are you finished with Don or do you wish to continue?" Hansel asked.

Erik was confused and replied, "No, he's not been exercised fully yet, we still have the cross- country to do. Why?" he asked, the confusion could not be hidden form his voice, and it was genuine.

"Well, monsieur. You have been sitting there for ten minutes staring at his mane," Hansel said with a shrug.

"Oh, well no. My imagination got the better of me, Hansel. And I can bed him down for the day myself, you can finish your duties and go," Erik said motioning towards the gates of the stable yard.

"Thank you, Monsieur!" Hansel said enthusiastically, and it looked like the skin around his mouth was about to rip in two he smiled so broadly…

Erik watched the young boy run off, with slight amusement. It must be so simple, childhood. He wondered what it was like having a proper one. Where you weren't cringing every half-hour waiting for a blow to fall, or a curtain to open. He had never had a childhood, and as he thought back to his past, his mood darkened. If Hansel had arrived now he would not have let him go early. He sat up straighter and stretched his back with a grimace, the memories flooding back with all too perfect recollections. Sometimes the pain returned with them, sometimes without, he just dreaded the times when he was reminded of his childhood. And yet, sometimes he revelled in his memories; they almost give him comfort in some sort of macabre way. Sometimes he would sit alone in a dark corner of his room with the fire casting a faint red glow over the room and set his thoughts on his past. Somehow, although he felt depressed, it gave him comfort, and he wished he knew why…

He shook his head once more and gently squeezed Don Juan into action again. But even as he walked around the arena, his thoughts floated back to Christine out there somewhere, on Amarantine…

As Christine serenely rode across the wide fields her thoughts floated to someone once again whom she did not want to think about. As soon as she felt the slightest telltale sign that he was entering her mind she would immediately think of Raoul. Her darling- even if boring- husband, who she told herself she loved dearly and would never think of betraying by thinking of another man, of a choice that she had made before. It was the past, and she had made her choice she told herself. For the past while that she had been living with Raoul, she had steeled herself against thoughts of Erik and what she had done to him, and deep down told herself that she really did hate him.

There was that indisputable fact that he had tried to kill Raoul and had gone mad, killing all that was good without a thought. He had killed Joseph Bouquet and nearly killed Carlotta, although the last had been for Christine's well being but that wasn't the point, it wasn't right! (A/N: And by the way don't think that I'm ratting on Erik, I will explain all later!)

Damn! There she was thinking about him again, but at least this time it hadn't been favourably, she told herself. She decided to ease her tired mind by looking around her at the beautiful location of Monica and Robert's House. It truly was beautiful, the fields stretched out as far as the eye could see, the sun shone today and lit up all areas and gave the places that were covered by the reaching branches of trees a speckled look that was delightful to Christine's troubled mind. Whenever she had a problem she always turned to the comfort of the world around her.

She looked up at the blue sky and let her ears be filled with the joyous song of the songbirds above, entwining their way together in a dance of true love and acceptance.

Across the wide fields there was the odd tree dotted across the green grass that gave great shade. In the distance she could see the snow-covered tops of mountains and wondered what each one was called and how tall and steep they really were up close. She had to admit that Erik's choice of horse had really been splendid. Amarantine walked calmly and slowly below her with great ease and smoothness of pace, and Christine was quite comfortable even though she was not riding side- saddle, something that was greatly refreshing in her mind.

And she suddenly brightened up; she had mentioned- or thought of- Erik in passing and had only remembered now! How proud of herself she was! She let out a laugh that seemed to made of pure joy and spurred her horse on into a fast paced gallop that made her feel like she was floating through the air at tremendous pace. She let go of the reins, trusting the quiet mare with her life, and putting her arms out to the sides, letting the wind flow through her fingers like water. She laughed and filled her lungs with the fresh air of the outdoors, never had she felt so happy in her life…

Never had Erik felt so sad in all his life… He didn't know why but he had a feeling of sadness and foreboding in his mind. The foreboding feeling was stronger though, and sent a wave of freezing cold through him. He shivered and he knew that something was wrong. He shook his head and tried to banish it from his mind but no matter, he could still feel that horrible cold sliding up and down his back.

Even before his days at the Opera Populaire he had had great intuition, he always knew when something was wrong. The greatest downside of this power of perception being… he didn't know what was wrong. He sighed and dropped the reins, and rubbed his now perfect face with his hands and sighed. He normally couldn't tell what was wrong… but this time he could. He had a feeling that it was something to do with Christine. But he cleared it from his mind thinking that it was just because he had met her after such a long time…

Christine was on a high she felt so happy, all trivial matters of the world did not matter any more. The only thing that mattered was that she was here now, in such a beautiful place and she had no responsibilities or things to think about… because none of them mattered.

But you have to picture the next moment in slow motion. Christine laughed and the mare took another thundering stride… Christine closed her eyes in blind happiness… the mare took another thundering stride… Christine laughed… the mare took another thundering stride… a rabbit darted in front of the mare… the mare spooked… Christine fell… the mare ran… Christine fell… Christine… just fell… It seemed to Christine like she was falling through space and time… She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out… Christine fell…

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Christine stopped…

She slowly opened her eyes. She must have fallen and hit her head on something, but she could tell that she hadn't been asleep for too long by the position of the sun. Then again she wasn't where she had fallen. She was under a tree, in that cool shade that she remembered seeing before on the Mare.

She blinked a few times at the intrusion of tiny beams of light that penetrated through the gaps between the leaves of the tree. Things were still a little blurry, so she blinked a few times more and then the pain in her head came, making her wish she had died.

She heard a distant and far off voice. Slowly she sat up and looked around her, the confusion taking its toll on her already pounding head. She looked out, away from the shadow of the tree and into the sunlight. She saw a man standing beside two horses.

She still hadn't a clue what was going on around her as her brain was till working in slow motion like the paragraph above.

Eventually when the power of recognition came back to her and she realised that the man was Erik and the horses were Amarantine and Don Juan. She listened closer, seeing the Erik had not realised that she had woken.

"Women, eh?" he said to Don Juan, inclining his head towards Amaranthine and Christine together. The horse neighed its approval and a deep chuckle escaped him. She had never heard him laugh in any form and was surprised to hear the rich sound pass his lips. But at the same time she was furious at him. If not for the scathing comment but for everything in general.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," Christine said, and then instantly regretted it as the pounding in her head increased and she flinched at the sound of the brass band in her head.

Erik spun quickly at the sound of her voice. He looked at her and she shivered under his unwavering gaze, and she jumped at the sight of his face. But the strange thing was –and she felt that she would never get accustomed to it- was the reason that she flinched was because the right side of his profile was perfect. She inwardly shouted at herself for her lack of feeling. It seemed that no matter what he done she would always flinch. AND TOO RIGHT! After all the massacring he had had done, the steeliest man in Ireland would have flinched!

"It would be best to rest yourself, Madame. You had a rather rough fall," he said turning back to the horses again.

She inwardly fumed until she couldn't hold it any longer and it wasn't long.

"Excuse me! What are you doing here? What in Gods name possessed you to come how did you know? Why did you come back into my life?" she almost screamed. The fact that Erik hardly moved and stayed completely calm infuriated her even more and made her shout more loudly.

"Why did **I** come back into **your** life? Excuse **me, **Madame, but I do believe that I was here first and therefore, **you **came into **my** life…" he said turning again and feeding the two horses a half of an apple each.

"Oh for GODS SAKE! I give up," she sighed again and wrapped her arms around her knees protectively.

Erik finished with the horses that now had their tack off and were grazing happily, loosely tethered to a stray rock that stood up very straight.

Erik walked towards Christine. He didn't particularly want to because the awkward feeling that he knew he would feel would come. He sat down close to her but no too close. The awkward feeling came as he had expected. There was an awkward silence as well and Erik could feel the torrent of emotions pouring off Christine, but he did not show his awkwardness on the outside and kept his steely exterior up.

He turned to her and with genuine concern said; "Are you alright?" She lifter her head from her knees and looked at him with a steady gaze. She was about to reply in a civil way but her brain overrode the reaction that she had developed form being in the presence of the aristocracy and came out with; "What would you care anyway," Christine really didn't feel herself. Even that reply was uncharacteristic of her.

Erik had noticed this abnormality as well. "I would care a great deal actually," he said looking back at her. His reply was just as venomous but he could not completely push out the tones of worry and truth. It really annoyed him.

Christine sighed and shook her head. She wasn't sure what to say and she felt dizzy and she wasn't herself at all. She would never have said those things to Erik. She didn't even know his name yet. Was Erik his real name or did he just make that up off the top of his head?

"What are we waiting here for anyway? Do you not think that we should go back?" Christine said, trying her best not to let her gaze fall on him.

"Not yet. Take it easy. You had a bad fall and I want to make sure that you aren't going to have another one anytime soon."

Christine sighed and saw that there was a small stream running near to the tree that they were sitting under. She stood, and held on to the tree trunk for support. She didn't want to fall over again and feel even weaker in Erik's presence. She wasn't sure exactly what he thought of her now, and she tried to tell herself that she didn't care, but she did and she knew that she did.

She was beginning to realise that maybe it isn't him that she hates. But she hates the fact that she loves him after all this. The fact that she loves him more than Raoul. And she knew that it was only a matter of time before she admitted it to herself…

And sat down by the edge of the stream not caring that her dress was getting muddy. It was already disgusting and she was past caring. The only thing that filled her thoughts now was the man that was sitting behind her. Who had saved her…? If no one had found her she could have been there for days. It was a big estate, and it would take a few hours for anyone to notice her prolonged absence.

She lifted a small handful of the cool water and threw it over her face washing away the muck that had taken over her once perfect make-up. She sighed and shivered and then dried her face on the cleanest part of the sleeve of her dress she could find. It wasn't very clean…

She stood once more and turned to face the tree again. Erik had risen and was tending to the horses again. He seemed to have bonded very well with both of them. She supposed that while he had been deformed, working with animals would have been a release. Animals didn't ask questions, they didn't care how smart you were, they didn't care how wealthy you are, and they just made sure that you were kind and would feed them all the time. She expected that Erik would abnormally good with animals and she had been right.

While watching the man, the question that had been lingering at the back of her mind came back to the front. 'How had he gotten rid of the deformity'. There was no trace of it there anymore, and Christine didn't believe in witchcraft, so that was out of the question. It truly puzzled her, but she certainly wouldn't ask him on the terms that the pair was on now.

She walked away from the stream and back towards the tree again. Erik didn't show any sign that he had noticed her return so she sat back down again and watched him fiddle about with the horse's tack and getting clumps of muck out of their well-brushed manes.

"How long before we can go back?" Christine hadn't meant all the things that she had said earlier. She was surprised to see him, not to mention that fact that she had just fallen off a horse too. She hoped that he hadn't taken her words to heart.

She really was sorry about what she had done to him before. She had never intended to hurt him although she knew that it would be something that would have to happen along the way. She had never wanted to hurt him…

"Give it five minutes. Until you feel like yourself again." Erik didn't turn around when answering her.

For the next while she just sat and watched Erik and how well the horses responded to him. She was going over the events of the Opera Populaire in her mind. The events that she promised herself she would never think of again. The events that she had told herself were the past because she was happy now and didn't need to remember the past…

The weather hadn't changed since and the sun was still beating down on the green meadows of France. As she looked out at the blistering heat of the summer she was thankful for the cool shade of the tree. There was a slight breeze blowing the grass though and it kept the temperature down slightly, but only slightly. While sitting in the shade it ruffled Christine's hair in a very complimentary way. Erik noticed all these things from quick glimpses that he stole of her when she wasn't looking.

He told himself that he should be over her. She had been icy with him so he had been icy in return. He was planning to play the next few days by ear and see her attitude towards him. He hoped that she didn't think she could just waltz back into his life and take him y storm. He hoped that she didn't think that he would fall madly back in love with her and let it show to the whole world, and answer to her every beck and call. The first part was true but he didn't intend to show it. And even if he did love her, he would never give her another chance. She had betrayed him, more than once, and once was enough for anyone. She frightened him in the way that she had this effect on him and that she could hurt him so much with just a single glance. The way that she could captivate his mind with her musical laugh. The way that she could make him feel like he was loved one moment and hated and alone the next. He hated anyone having that sort of power over him, but there was only one person that did. One too many…

"Are you ready to go, Christine?" he said, turning towards her for the first time in five minutes. She hadn't been looking at him. She had been looking off into the fields far away. The look on her face when she snapped back into reality almost made his heart stop.

He inwardly slapped himself for his weakness and foolishness. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind of all power that Christine held over him.

"Um, yes. I think I will be fine, thank you," she replied, rising from her makeshift seat of the root of the tree. A soon as she spoke, she came rushing back into his mind with such ferocity that' it nearly knocked him off his feet. He slapped himself hard again, inwardly. It was tearing him up inside. He refused to allow her to do this to him.

Both had set their minds to fooling each other that they didn't love them. What _strange _things go through the minds of humans?

2#

Okay well that's it for now. I know it's short but I don't want to put too much into one chapter sooooo. Tell me what you think…

I would like to give a HUGE thank you to ALL my reviewers you are amazing and help me write immensely. Please tell me if you would prefer review replies in chapters or by the new e-mail reply that Fan Fiction has set up!

Thanks,

Kelly Tolkien!


	4. The Woes of Autumn

**The Woes of Autumn **

It was summer and the landscape that Christine's window offered her a view of was the most beautiful things that she had seen in a very long time. For the past year, her mind had being harbouring too many thoughts to take the time to look at the beautiful surrounding landscape. She had missed autumn in her confusion. Her favourite time of the year. She had never really been that fond of summer, she had always thought that it was far too warm for any human being to possibly find it comfortable… And winter was just too cold to enjoy the beautiful white veil that covered the world for a couple of months. A pity really… Her favourite season had, and always would be, she thought, autumn.

Everything changed in autumn. The leaves turned from a rich green to an assortment of colours, perfectly blended together in a myriad of change. The sky could change from a cerulean blue to a cold grey at any moment and unexpected rains could fall from the heavens without any prior warning whatsoever. She loved that. The unpredictability of autumn, and the way that the leaves that had descended serenely from the trees could suddenly turn into a flurry of oranges and browns in a quick breeze and scatter, never one leaf looking the same as another. A magical time in her mind, one that could not ever be forgotten.

But… just because it was her favourite season did not mean that things could not go wrong for her. Quite the opposite in fact since nothing can be perfect. Raoul had done the worst thing that he possibly could have done. For the past few weeks he had been drowning his business sorrows in red wine and gin. Not a very good combination… Christine always pitied the barman or the unfortunate servant who was ever charged with attending him, as he got very shirty whenever he saw the bottom of his glass. When he eventually stumbled up the stairs and into their room he was beyond the state of mind where sensible conversation could be possible. On the few nights when he did manage to get the whole way to their room otherwise unaided, he was far too out of it to do anything other than collapse onto the bed and shake the whole side of the house with his voluminous snoring.

She hoped that Raoul would be leaving soon as that was the agreement. When all matters of business were finished her beloved husband would depart and she would have some free time to spend with Monica. Raoul had other matters to attend to somewhere else. She did not know where as she did not like to pry into his business matters.

Christine turned from the window that she had been dreamily gazing out of looking at the brilliant array of colours of autumn. She looked at her still inebriated husband lying still on the bed; the odd snore emanating loudly from his slightly parted lips. It was already past breakfast time and she had waited for Raoul to wake. She had planned to wait and go down with him to get something to eat. It would have been nice to get a chance to have an adult conversation with him that did not involve any slurred words. She had not wanted to awaken him, as she knew what a dreadful temper he had when he was woken from an alcohol-induced dream world.

But still, just shortly after eleven, Raoul had shown no signs of stirring. Giving up with a sigh, she checked her reflection in mirror once more before walking to the door and turning the brass handle quietly so that the click of the lock did not wake her deeply snoozing husband, and then it closed it with the same care after her.

She walked slowly, once more taking her time through the vast corridors of her friends' house. She found it easy to get around though since Monica had been good enough to give them a room close to the centre of the house and not in the far out wings of the mansion.

She arrived at the top of the stairs in the entrance hall to see the large oak doors flung wide open to let the cool breeze through. The day must have been warmer than she thought looking out of the window. She was surprised to see as she walked elegantly down the stairs, taking care not to trip on her voluminous skirts. It was then, when she reached the bottom of the staircase that she looked up again at the open door. Her heart sank and her stomach seemed to twist, like a hand had clamped itself around it.

Standing in the doorway, pleasantly conversing with Robert holding a rather expensive looking horse with a loose rein was Erik.

"Yes, Monica said that she felt like a little ride out today… You know, Erik, make the best of the weather while it lasts, eh?" Robert's voice echoed about the entrance hall.

Erik smiled and replied formally, and yet it still sounded as though he was making sure that the man knew that he was his equal.

"Absolutely, Monsieur. Will you require your horse also?"

"Ah… Yes, thank you Erik I think so… We shall be coming out in about ten minutes. Can you and the stable boy have the horses tacked and ready?" Robert asked as a second thought, turning back to the tall man at the door with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sure that we will manage, Monsieur." There it was again… that humble and yet commanding tone.

"Oh and Erik, how's the Holiday-home coming along then?" Robert queried, talking to Erik as if they were old friends.

"Very well, Monsieur. It should be finished within the month if everything goes according to plan," Erik replied.

"Oh good… good. Well thank you. See you in a few minutes.

Erik nodded and walked away, patting the horse gently on the neck as it ambled along beside him, but the butler closed the door before she could see anything more.

Robert turned away from the door but did not begin to head back to the dining room yet. He stood for a while, hunched over and rustling for something inside the pocket of his personally tailored dress coat.

Christine walked toward him and the clicking of her shoes on the black and white tiled floor, quickly alerted him to her presence.

"Ah, Christine my dear. You have awoken. Where prey tell is your husband?" Robert asked with an inquiring glance back up the stairs. His hand was still in his pocket.

"He seems to have the most frightful headache, Monsieur. I hope you don't mind but I insisted he stay in bed." Christine did not feel that it would be prudent to inform Monsieur Flarier of her husbands drinking problem.

"Oh of course, of course… Can't handle the drink! Oh well, I'm sure he'll be fine, don't worry yourself…" said Robert, fustling in his pocket again. _On the contrary, _Christine thought, _he can hold the drink all too well…_

Eventually, with a smile he pulled his hand from his pocket and walked quickly back into the dining room, standing at the doorway, making a gesture for her to follow. She nodded her head courteously and entered.

She entered the dining room to find Monica sitting at the table staring out the window. She seemed to be in a dream world, no paying any attention to what was happening in the dining room as she was not alerted to Christine's presence.

"Monica! I leave you for a few seconds and back you go into your little dream world again!" said Robert throwing his hands up in the air with mock exasperation.

At the sound of her husband's voice, Monica seemed to snap back to reality with a little start barely noticeable. But Christine noticed…

"Oh Christine! I apologise, my head was away with fairies! How rude of me!" Monica said in her usual bubbly voice. She patted the elegant silk-covered chair that sat beside her with the palm of her hand, gesturing for me to sit beside her.

"We're going for a ride today, would you like to accompany us?" Monica asked, her gaze floating unconsciously towards the large bay window once more.

"Oh…ah," Christine muttered. "No thank you. I was out riding yesterday and my muscles are aching. I'm afraid I haven't had the privilege to sit on a horse for quite a while and I'm afraid my bandy legs are out of practice!" Christine laughed happily with Monica at her comment. The real reason she didn't want to ride was the huge bruises that had graced her backside and elbow with their presence after her fall.

So after ten minutes or so the happy pair left the house, excusing themselves politely to go for a romantic ride together in the autumn sunshine.

Christine left the room and returned to her snoring husband preparing herself for his awakening…

**Okay I am so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so sorry that it took so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so long to get this chapter up and that it is so so so so so so so so so so short. But the next xhapter will be up soon and it will be much longer. This was really her to tell you all that I still existed. Please Please Please review.**


	5. Mixed Feelings

**_Mouse in the Opera House: Have faith! Trust me! Savour each sensation!_**

**_Shorty: Thanks for the grammar tips but I thought it was better be safe than sorry. The 'Si' instead of 'S'il' was a mis-type… Thanks_**

**_MAdBrilliant: thanks for the review. This chapter's longer. Sorry! Je suis désole !_**

Jedi X-man Serena Kenobi: Thanks for reviewing and thanks for the comment. 

And everyone else that I have forgotten or run out of time to mention, you all rule and I thank you loads and loads for reviewing please do it again! Plus I think I sent some of you an instant reply.

Okay this is another really short chapter because I don't have much time. But if I ever feel I am not going to have time to post a chapter I will write a short one so you have SOMETHING!

**YOU MUST ALL HAVE FAITH IN ME!**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Phantom of the Opera or Erik or Christine or Raoul (thank god) or Madame Giry or Meg… I OWN NOTHING. (Damn) But hey! Andrew Lloyd Webber and Joel Schumacher are letting me play on their sandbox as they say, so…

Mixed Feelings 

Christine re-entered her room, her stomach making a contented rumbling sound after the breakfast that had been served to her despite her lateness. Her husband still lay inebriated, tangled up in the red satin covers of their grand looking four-poster bed.

Just as before, she closed the door behind her quietly and realised disappointedly, that she would eventually have to awaken him from his alcohol-induced slumber.

With a sigh, Christine moved to the dressing table and mirror at the side of the room to check her almost doll like make-up. Looking in the mirror she could still see that the foundation and blusher held fast and that she needed no touch ups just yet.

She turned around on the stool that had been covered in the same rich satin as the bed to look at her husband. A loud snore came from the still form. She stood up procrastinating the inevitable, and walked to the wide bay window that gave her a view of the grounds of her friends' house.

Still as beautiful as ever in the bright sunlight of noon, as unseasonable as it may have been. She set her eyes in the direction of the upmarket stable yard, to see, just over the roofs of the stables, the ménage and Erik...She had unconsciously walked to the window to look for him. What was she thinking? She wanted to have absolutely no thoughts of him in her mind. Or was her unconscious mind trying to give her a hint she wished to disregard?

She shook her head although couldn't help noticing that Monica was standing beside Erik instead of Robert, but when she took the horse of him and rode away with her husband, Christine disregarded it without another thought.

Erik disappeared back inside the stables and she walked away from the window deciding that there was nothing worth looking at now. With one guarded look, she walked to the side of the bed and leant over her husband.

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder gently; "_Raoul… Raoul… Time to wake up, honey," _she said into his ear. But despite her efforts, Raoul made no sign of noticing her presence.

She shook him slightly harder and spoke the same thing louder once more. This time he stirred and his eyes fluttered open. For a second their eyes met, his blue and hers brown, but quickly the blue orbs closed again at the intrusion of the bright noon light that flooded through the window. He groaned and turned away from her and the window.

"Raoul, I think that it is time you got up. Headache or not my love, we would not want to insult our hosts after they have been so charitable…"

Raoul pointed at the window, keeping his eyes closed, obviously telling her that he wanted the sunlight to be banished from the room. Slowly, and with another sigh, a gesture that she had become well acquainted with over the past months, she glided to the curtains and closed out the sunlight. A few strong rays still penetrated the thick velvet curtains, but it was just enough to give the room a decent enough light without having to light a candle.

Raoul turned over and looked through his bleary eyes at her again. He regarded her slowly now, scanning over her blue dress and perfect make-up. Her neat hair and perfect posture, and smiled. Smiled as much as he could without worsening his headache.

"Oh, my love. My head is so sore my teeth hurt. "

"Well, maybe next time you should try to drink a little less, darling?" Christine suggested, bustling about the room and trying to tidy some of the mess that had been made the night before, when it had been too late to clear it up.

"Oh for heaven's sake Christine I didn't drink that much," Raoul replied angrily looking away from her. He suddenly found a speck on the roof that possessed enough detail to interest him.

"Yes, Dear. Not on the standards you're drinking at, at the moment anyway… And I can't really see… any possible reason for your inebriation every night. It is happening more and more often now." Christine explained stopping fustling about and turning to look at him.

Raoul sat up angrily and was about to throw back a harsh reprimand to his young wife when he saw the true look of concern on her soft features. He bit his tongue and sought out different words to use this time.

"I am not in a focused enough state at the moment to have an argument about alcohol with you now Christine."

Raoul lay back down on the bed again and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Christine sighed and turned away.

She seriously needed to talk to Raoul about his newly developing drink problem. He was too busy during the day and as soon as the clock struck six and the sun sank behind the horizon he began his nightly ritual of pouring the accursed substance down his throat. It would just go on in one never-ending circle. Some day, she would have to catch him off guard about it. Someday she would need to confront him. But it would have to wait until later. Over the next few weeks, no situation would present itself; as the newly married couple would be separated soon. Raoul to go off to England on some business or other and Christine would stay here and spend time with Monica. With… Erik. NO! With Monica and solely with Monica… Right?

Pleaseeeeeee review! Sorry it's so short but I'm kind of busy at the moment. And tired.


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